


Shelter From The Storm

by zugzwang4



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, An unrealistic reaction to storm warnings, Does not actually take place in a college, M/M, Prompt Fic, Rated for swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zugzwang4/pseuds/zugzwang4
Summary: Enjolras is at the end of the neighborhood and at the end of his patience with next to no signatures for his latest petition. This scruffy person in the last house isn't making it easier. Storm warnings go off and Enjolras really just wants to go home.-Written for the prompt: "A missionary visits your character's house and attempts to convert her to his religion. Your character is trying to get rid of him just as storm warning sirens go off. Your character feels she can't send the missionary out into the storm, so she lets him come down into her basement with her. This is going to be a long storm...."





	

**Author's Note:**

> They are college students, but there is no college here. May or may not be continued.

    It was finally the last house. The last house in a neighborhood of twenty-five. The last house after having twenty-two doors slammed in his face. With two signatures to show for his work- two!- his hope and patience had dwindled to almost nothing and his already questionable social skills were probably long gone. But, it didn’t matter. After this Enjolras could go home, drink a metric fuckton of hot chocolate, and sleep. No essays, no rallies, no petitioning for two nights, just rest. He counted to ten, knocked on the door, and attempted to school his expression into neutrality. It may have been a lost cause.

    As soon as the door opened, Enjolras focused on the beanie and curls that came into view and went through his mini speech (tangent). He wouldn’t give them time to ignore him, they would listen to what he had to say whether they liked it or not. And if his voice was raised a bit too loud (it was), Combeferre wasn’t there to scold him.

    He finished with aching lungs and a last gasp of air as he held out a ballpoint pen and the petition. Now that he focused on the person in the door, he could clearly see a blank stare and raised eyebrows under the dark curls. He did not feel like watering all that down again.

    They blinked. “Uh.. Sorry, what?” Dammit.

    Enjolras replied in a huff, “We’re petitioning the local government to replace the equipment in our parks.” He raised the pen again and waved the petition.

    “Why?”

    He could feel a headache coming on. “What do you mean, ‘why’? Because the park equipment needs to be replaced.”

    They rolled their eyes and tugged their beanie down lower. “Yeah, I got that. Why are you petitioning for it?”

    His frown deepened and he pulled his arms back to himself. “Because the parks are not being taken care of and the local government needs to change that. We need these parks restored, unless you want children to be playing in rust and exposed nails.”

    The person scoffed and scratched at their rough stubble. “No, actually, I’m not that breed of shitty. Thanks, though.”

    Enjolras felt his face heating in embarrassment. Maybe that was a bit cruel. He looked to the side and mumbled an apology, which the other person ignored.

    “But if you want those parks fixed, a petition isn’t going to do anything. You’re wasting your time, the government isn’t going to listen to a bunch of teenagers,” they shrugged. “Good luck with your thing,” they said and closed the door before Enjolras had a chance to respond.

    He stood on their doorstep and counted to ten. It was just another pessimist refusing to simply sign a damn sheet of paper. He’d dealt with plenty before. The door was closed and he could go home. He would forget about this and relax with- Fuck it. His jaw clenched and he knocked harder on the door. It nearly flew open. He might be acting aggressively.

    “Look, I’m not signing your-”

    Enjolras interjected before they could leave again. “Whether or not this makes something happen immediately, it’s worth getting the knowledge out that there are people who are working to change this. Whether or not this makes something happen, we’re making it known to the local government that there are people who want something done. Anything we can do to help is worth doing, even if it’s not a quick fix.”

    Their eyebrows lifted and they stuffed their hands into their pockets. “And if it doesn’t work? People aren’t so caring about the greater good, you know. If the government doesn’t feel like doing it, it won’t happen.”

    “Then we can make it happen!” He only just managed not to stomp his foot like a child.

    They snorted a bit and scratched at their stubble again, looking off somewhere inside the house. “Uh, look. As much as I’m enjoying this little debate, storm warnings have been going off for the past twenty minutes and we should both probably get underground before we’re swept to Oz by a tornado or something. It was nice meeting you and all but- Are you okay?”

    Enjolras’ jaw was now clenched for an entirely different reason and he felt his entire body tensing up almost painfully. “Just fine-” He hated storms. “I can get home-” He was terrified of big storms. “I can just walk.” He cursed every God he knew of and then cursed himself for not asking Combeferre for the car today.

    “You- You’re going to walk?”

    “I don’t have a car.”

    “What about the bus?”

    He scoffed. “Even if they’re running during storm warnings, I don’t have money on me.”

    “Where do you live?”

    “Chestnut Street.”

    An incredulous look. “That’s across the city.”

    “I realize.”

    “You left home to go across the city with no money whatsoever.”

    He didn’t have time for this. “Apparently.”

    “And you’re going to walk.”

    Enjolras dug his nails into his palm in an attempt to remain grounded. “I have no other choice, do I?”

    They opened and closed their mouth a few times, looking around as if a better solution would turn the corner. “I mean-” they rubbed their neck and avoided looking at him. “You could stay here until it’s over?”

    Enjolras actually forgot about the storm for a half-second in his surprise. “You really don’t have to do that.” He subscribed to no religion, but prayed the person insisted.

    They scoffed again and looked at him. “Would you rather walk home?”

    He hesitated.

    “I have hot chocolate?”

    Well, then. “Yes- I mean- Thank you. Thank you so much.” He barely waited for them to move aside before pushing into the small home.


End file.
